


Chivalry Isn't Ready To Die

by fall_out_fanboy



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Dragon!Patrick, Knight!Pete, M/M, Mideval, Mythology - Freeform, dragon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 23:38:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4765244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fall_out_fanboy/pseuds/fall_out_fanboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III was sent for by the king to attempt to defeat the dragon and win his daughter's hand in marriage. But along the way because of vague prophecies and an intense will to live, the princess is forgotten and Pete finds love in all the wrong places...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The giant beast huffed and rolled his eyes in annoyance as the puny looking knight approached. Another sad attempt at "saving" the princess. They weren't actually here to save her, though , she was plenty safe with a three-story tall dragon protecting her. No. They came to court her. 

Court her, and kill him.

Of course the dragon had been successful thus far, considering the scattered remains and charred bits of valiant knights past that he scattered around the castle entrance. You'd think that might keep people away, but no. They still come. And they still die.   
Something about this suitor, though piqued the beast's interest as he watched the way he walked twords the castle. He wasn't walking with his chest puffed out, confident and cocky, as most of the knights did. No. This one seemed... Scared. He let his fear pierce through the showy bravado most knights carried to the death.

The dragon let out a low noise of interest as his multi colored eyes watched the knight jump. He must have heard the dragon's noise, and it obviously scared the shit out of him.  
The beast closed his eyes, and focused his energy into a tight ball inside of him. He curled in on himself, and quickly disappeared in a puff of dark, thick, smoke that the knight would mistake for fire almost certainly. Knights were never familiar with magic.

The beast looked down at himself and was pleased to see that he was no longer a beast. He was a free standing pink fleshy creature. A human, like the princess and the knight. Not only was he human, but he was naked. From what he had experienced, humans didn't typically walk around naked.

The now human dragon looked around his layer and found armour about his size hanging off of a falling apart skeleton. He picked up the helmet and looked at the inside. 

"STUMPH" it read.

The dragon nodded. This was his title, now. Stumph. But Stumph, what? He didn't know many names. He looked down for a moment. Even less names fitting of a man. One name he did know stuck out to him. Patrick. It had a nice ring to it. 

It was settled. He would be Sir Patrick Stumph. 

He got dressed and stumbled around, getting used to the upright position and the clunky armour. It was time for him to greet this suitor.

-

Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III didn't choose to go save the princess. He didn't choose to die, is a better way of phrasing it. But the king was demanding that the finest men in the kingdom prove their bravery to win his fair daughter's hand in marriage. And for some reason, Pete had been blessed, or perhaps cursed, with devilish good looks and a rebel boys personality that set all the girls hearts aflutter. 

The king got wind of this local heart-throb and sent for him almost immediately. And here he was. With only a fortnight of training, and no experience whatsoever.

He could already hear his foe bumbling about the castle. He was trembling in his armour and absolutely scared shitless. He always had a fascination with death but now that he was confronted with it, he knew that he certainly wasn't ready to die.

A large puff of smoke wafted across the top of the castle, and our valiant little knight almost peed right there. Fire already. He wasn't certain he'd be able to walk through a burning room. Or do any of this. All he knew was that he wasn't ready to die.

Peter paused for a moment, and inhaled through his nose, then exhale through his mouth. He heard his amour clattering and realised that he was shaking. His nerve ending were on fire and ever part of him was telling him to turn back. If he did turn back, though, he'd be executed.

Stay here and die. Go home and die. Two options with the same outcome. At least this way he had a microscopic chance at survival.

He walked forward, temporarily pushing his fears to the back of his mind, focused solely on his animalistic desire for survival. As he reached the castle gates, he heard a metal on metal noise that sent adrenaline shooting through him. 

He stood at the grand entrance, feeling small and insignificant, like a bug. Peter swallowed down his hesitation, and pushed open the doors. The large wooden entryway creaked open and thudded into place. 

Peter shook his head and took in a deep breath, entering the castle with everything at stake.

-

Patrick heard the telltale creek and clunk of the doors being open. He almost prepared himself for the scene that had taken place a thousand times before, but then remembered. He wasn't himself right now, but in a fake body going under an alias. He was a few rooms over from the newcomer, but listened to everything going on with him. 

Patrick's superhuman hearing allowed him to pick out the smallest of details. From the clunk and rattle of the armour, to the knight's shaky breathing, he heard it. He could also smell. He smelled fear, regret, hatred, and something else. Something sweet and wonderful. Perhaps that was just this knight's scent. Whatever it was, Patrick loved it.

It didn't occur to Patrick to dirty himself up until the knight was almost at his door. There was no way he would pass as a human surviving here if he looked clean as a newborn.

He picked up a handful of dust from the ground, and smeared it all over his face, arms, and armour and cloth ensemble. He then sat himself down and remained very still awaiting the knight's entrance.

-

Peter looked around the castle's front lobby. It wasn't very well lit, some light seeped in through the windows, but all that did was reflect across the dust floating through the air and cast ominous shadows off of the different pieces of neglected furniture that was scattered about.   
The sounds of rats scurrying throughout the walls and the floor brought a sense of life to the place, though not in a positive way, it was still there, and Peter found that reassuring.

As his eyes graved the scene in front of him, he noticed several doors and an elaborate staircase in the room. He thought that perhaps the staircase would be too obvious. It must have been the route all of the knights elected to choose in the past. Peter might have been a pretty boy, but he was no fool.

He turned to look at a door twords the centre of the room, on the left hand side. He grabbed the handle of the door and pushed it open. Peter looked into the room and found nothing but a stainglass window with an intricate design. It was a dragon, and Peter assumed it was the dragon who resided in this castle. 

The dragon shown had coppery brown scales, and eyes that could have been hazel, blue, green, or grey, depending on how you looked at it. The dragon sat in an elaborate hallway, the decor of the room in blood red velvets and gold garnish. Small white-on-grey bits were scattered about the scene, and it could easily be assumed that these were the skeletons of knights who at lost to the beast.

The funny thing is, though, that Peter saw what looked like him in this scene. A knight with caramel skin and black hair stood next to the dragon, looking up at him. And the princess? She was nowhere to be seen.

Peter shook his head, and left the room to continue pursuit of the dragon elsewhere.


	2. Chapter 2

Patrick listened to the knight bumbling about the castle, going in and out of different rooms. He stayed longer in others, likely admiring the furniture and prophetic artwork. Patrick had seen the artwork himself a thousand times over. He had come to the conclusion that the knight who would defeat him would have blackish hair and skin of soft caramel. He was often seen with this man, and that must mean he'd be the one to slay him once and for all.

Now, imagine Patrick's fright when his potential murderer comes walking into the room, almost as if he had come right out of one of the paintings or windows. Patrick decided that perhaps instead of getting to know this man, he might just try to scare him off. In the back of his mind Patrick knew he couldn't defy the prophecies, but that didn't mean he couldn't attempt to prolong the inevitable.

Patrick looked up to the knight, and realized that the fear he felt and most likely showed, was being reflected right back to him. Obviously, the knight was not expecting to see any other living thing here with him.

Aside from the dragon and perhaps the princess, of course.

Patrick looked up and give him a weak smile.

"A new one," he said.

-

Peter opened the door and nearly shit himself. Another knight. He froze in total shock. He thought that the only living things here were the rats that gnawed their way through the walls and floors and spiders that lurked in far away corners. And yet, here in front of him, was a dirtied up knight, giving him a feeble looking grin.

"What do you me-" Peter was cut off by the man on the floor bolting up and frantically shushing him.

"You don't want the dragon to hear us do you?" he spat in a low, gravely whisper. Peter was taken aback by the other knight's voice. And eyes. And face. And, gee, everything about him. 

Peter shook his head quickly and followed the other knights hand signal to follow him. He had lots of questions for this man, but he felt that they would all be answered in time as long as he was patient.

"Do you have a name?" the dirtied up knight ahead of him asked.

"Yeah, my title is Sir Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III," he said 'Sir' with an odd tone, it felt weird and foreign in his mouth "But I go by Pete in my hometown."

"I'm Stumph," the man responded "Sir Patrick, uh, Vaughn Stumph." 

Patrick Stumph. Pete thought it had a nice ring to it. They traveled in a surprisingly comfortable silence for a ways before making their way to a grand room at the end of a hallway.

"In here," Patrick said, in a normal volume "We'll be safe here. The dragon only ventures here once in a while so there should be less ,ah, unpleasant surprises." 

Patrick pushed open the doors and motioned for Pete to follow him inside. Pete followed, and was completely taken aback by the sight waiting for him.

-

Patrick watched Pete enter the soft velvety room, and turned around with a grin on his face. He expected Peter would be elated to see a room of such grandeur. He was sharing his favorite piece of the castle with the knight because, well, he wanted to impress him.

When he turned around, the look on Pete's face was anything but impressed. He looked like had just seen a ghost. The color drained from his face and his mouth hung agape. If Peter's eyes went any higher, Patrick thought they'd fly right off his face.

"I'm sorry I can't be in here," Pete said quickly, and turned around and left the room. Patrick felt a dull throb in his chest and felt absolutely devastated.  
What did he do wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a little short, sorry for that!
> 
> feedback welcome as always!


	3. Chapter 3

Peter stood leaning against the door, face white as a ghost. It was the room that he was going to die in. Or so he assumed.

Actually the whole situation struck him as a little odd. He went to castle no one had ever returned from, knights from kingdoms all around attempting to woo the allegedly gorgeous princess. And all of them were slain by their prey. 

And yet, here was a man who had probably been living in the castle for a long time. All he was was dirty. Not bloody or beaten or starved. Hell, there wasn't a cut on him, and he looked to be just a little plump.

Pete wanted so badly to trust this man, but something seemed a little, well, off about him. Not his personality, no he was quite pleasant, but it was just the fact that he existed at all. It didn't seem real to him. It didn't seem possible actually.

He shook his head and awkwardly slid his way down the door to sit with his head on his knees. He didn't ask for this. He didn't ask for any of this.

-

Patrick's face fell as Pete existed the room in such a flustered manor. He felt his heart plummet and his stomach turn. What had he done wrong? Why didn't Pete like the room he showed him? Why did Pete's rejection hurt him so badly?

All the questions and emotions swirled around inside of him and he frowned. Being a human was a lot harder when Patrick actually had company. He wondered if these things happened when he was around all people or just this one.

There was no easy way for Patrick to describe how Pete made him feel. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. His stomach felt queezy, but in a good way. His heart beat at a thousand miles a minute. His head swirled and his fingers just want to touch, to feel every inch of Pete and know his body as well as he knew this castle.

He wished knew what this feeling was. He wished he had a name for it. He wished, well, he wished he knew what it was like to be human, just for a moment. Just so he knew how he felt about Peter.

-

Pete ran through his options in his head. None of them seemed like very good choices to him, either. But he was able to conclude that it was his best bet to stay here. At least he had a small chance at life.

He ran his hand over the ornate door in front of him, wondering why he couldn't make sense of it all. Where was the dragon, and why hadn't it killed him yet? Who was this man just living in the castle? Why was he being so nice to him?

Then it dawned on him. Dragons are magical beings. The smoke wasn't from a fire at all. This mystery man... Stumph or whatever, wasn't a man at all.

Dragons were creatures of magic, and that puff of smoke wasn't from a fire at all, but Peter was too blinded by fear at the time to realise it.


End file.
